The Last Song by Ardin Patterson

My latest track just released, you can listen to it on most streaming platforms. I had a lot of fun singing this one. It gave me old Paramore vibes.

This song like many others was written for my nieces doll’s band. Hope you like it!

More music comes out on Sunday (My Birthday!) so please check it out, especially the EP with songs from Vermin.

Apples and Worms

Apples & Worms

Ardin Patterson, Sept. 1st, 2020.

I once cut my arm

Just so I could breath

Cause my lungs were filled right up

With something heavy

And it made me sick

I thought I might throw up

I didn’t but I wish I had

I didn’t but I wish I never lied

I didn’t but I wish I had

I didn’t but I wish I wouldn’t smile.

Dodo, dododo, laladi, dada (x2)

I wrote it in my own blood

The letters of my name

Cause my reflection was all screwed up

I didn’t look the same.

Inside me rose a panic

It fluttered, it crept in deep.

Dug a hole inside my body

Where my heart used to beat.

Dodo, dododo, laladi, dada (x2)

Let me out

Hear me crying

On the bedroom floor

Little fears have eaten me alive

From the inside

Like an apple devoured by worms.

Here I am broken

Needing someone to hold me up

But I chased them

With fire

Said I had it all figured out.

Dodo, dododo, laladi, dada (x2)

More Music

Songs from Vermin

As promised, yesterday the EP Songs from Vermin released onto streaming platforms, along with the single Loneliness. I had so much fun recording all of…

Under Birch Trees


Within this swamp land

The mist it hovers

It creates circles

Around your brothers

It lingers softly

Beneath your feet

It looms and it hovers

Along it creeps

Circling, circling


It’s lingering

Circling, circling


It’s lingering

(Ah, it draws you near/Within this atmosphere you feel no fear)

Smoke hangs in the air

And draws you near

Within this atmosphere

You feel

No fear

Under birch trees

And foggy skies

You forget that

We all die

Under birch trees (Circling, circling. Lingering, it’s lingering)

The air is clear (Circling, circling. Lingering, it’s lingering)

Except the mist that hangs (Circling, circling. Lingering, it’s lingering)

It’s always here

It’s always here

It’s always here

I wrote this song while thinking about the swamp my friends and I used to hang out in as teenagers. I’d get so many mosquito bites, but there was something pretty about all birch trees, trilliums and the mist on the water that always sparked our imagination.

This song is dedicated to them.